all my life, i have been waiting for
by ponderer
Summary: Rachel spends her Valentine Days with Barbra Streisand while getting her heart broken; until Finn Hudson fixes it. Finchel fluff!


TITLE: all my life, I have been waiting for  
AUTHOR: ponderer  
DISCLAIMER: I want for nothing. Not even Martina's "Valentine", in which my title comes from.  
SUMMARY: "Rachel spent the evening in between her dads, wearing her dress, silently watching Barbra get her heart broken by Robert Redford." Finchel  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't avoid the day, so I made it a good one by having an ultra sweet Finn/Rachel fluff story. Enjoy!

* * *

"Once again, from the top," Mr. Schuester said, eliciting a few groans from the members. Begrudgingly they got into their original places on the auditorium stage and took a deep breath, cueing music once more.

Rachel knew it was mostly her fault. She hadn't truly been there completely, mind, body and soul, in at least a week. For she had received numerous gifts leading up to the dreaded Valentine's Day and it more than moderately freaked her out.

The first gift she found was a small note taped to her locker, typed, saying, "Your smile makes a bad day turn into a good one."

It wasn't elegant, but it was nice. Beautiful really. And she was scared that it could be a trick, or worse, Jacob Ben Israel.

(Most of all, it hurt because she knew it wasn't Finn.)

* * *

When Rachel was six and in the first grade the teacher asked everyone to bring in Valentine cards for the whole class for the holiday party. She spent a week agonizing over which cards to select, making her dads cringe whenever they thought of the romantic holiday.

At the party, after looking into her elaborate bejeweled brown paper bag and only finding a handful of cards (most with mean notes and inappropriate drawings), Rachel went home crying, disappointed in all her efforts. Her heart was broken for the first time.

* * *

The second gift was a delivery to her house, in the mailbox. When she got home from school, her dads were gleefully eyeing a red envelope on the table. Again, it was all typed so Rachel couldn't figure out who's writing it was.

Inside was, "Your voice sounds like heaven; a perfect destination for my soul."

"It's so romantic!" her dads crooned, wrapping arms around each other. Although she smiled, it was a disguise.

When would she catch a break?

* * *

When Rachel was in fifth grade, the teacher said it was an option to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of the students wanted to have an excuse to have a sugar high, so it was voted that yes, they would host a party at the end of the school day. Having learned her lesson years ago, Rachel picked up the first set of Valentine cards she set her sights on, shocking her dads.

"Wouldn't you like to get something a bit fancier?" they asked her, paying for their purchase. She shook her head, stubborn.

"It's not worth it."

At the party, Rachel didn't bother looking through her paper bag. She already knew it was empty.

* * *

The third gift was the sweetest. It was another note, typed, but it was inside her locker this time. Rachel found the criminal a monster, trying to fool her. She searched her locker for stolen personal items, but finding everything intact, she threw away the note without reading it.

As she walked down the hall, she heard Finn's voice calling out her name. "Rachel, didn't you want to open this?"

Seeing that he was holding the offending bright pink envelope, she rolled her eyes. "I despise Valentine's Day."

Finn frowned, looking down at the note. "Well, someone went through a lot of trouble. It's the least you could do, reading it."

"It's probably just from Jacob," she muttered, grumpy. But seeing his puppy dog face, she felt a glimmer of hope. She opened the envelope and read it out loud, "When you walk into a room, everything else disappears."

"That sounds nice," Finn murmured, bringing her back to the present. Stoic once again, Rachel threw it away.

"It's all a big joke. I mean, if this "guy" really liked me, he would just tell me. These stupid notes mean nothing. Their just words."

Finn watched as she walked away, and she pretended to not feel disappointed again. It wasn't Finn's fault; he was still messed up. Still unsure of his thoughts and feelings; she understood that.

But this game was becoming too much.

* * *

When Rachel was in seventh grade she was invited to the school Valentine's dance to another school. It was by a boy she met at theater camp and he called her a month in advance. Her dads were ecstatic, running around the mall helping her find the perfect dress.

They picked out flowers, matching shoes and bag, bought her expensive nail polish. She sat at her vanity for most of the day, deciding on what shade of eye shadow and primping her eyebrows. She listened to romantic songs from Rosemary Clooney and Dean Martin, singing happily into her pink hairbrush. She danced around in her room wearing her beautiful new dress.

And when seven came around and her "date" was supposed to pick her up, she received a phone call from his mother saying how her son Dylan had made an awful and cruel joke and she had only just found out.

He wasn't coming.

Rachel spent the evening in between her dads, wearing her dress, silently watching Barbra get her heart broken by Robert Redford.

* * *

By the arrival of the fourth gift, Rachel had had enough. She was more angry than hurt now for her heart had grown an extra layer of protection from her past Valentine's Day experiences. So when she decided to skip school and lay in bed curled under her covers, she figured she was safe and that she could escape the day.

But the phone rang all day and finally at two in the afternoon when the doorbell went off, she marched angrily down the stairs wearing her dark blue bathrobe, grumbling, "What?" to the unoffending flower delivery man.

"Delivery for Rachel Berry?" he questioned, clearly unsure of what to do. Heaving a sigh, Rachel grabbed the arrangement from his hands, slamming the door in his face. Continuing into the kitchen, she placed the flowers on the table and thusly began glaring at it.

Her dads found her two hours later, arriving home from work. "These are lovely," they commented quietly, not wanting to break the silence.

"I don't understand," she said, feeling defeat. "I suppose I can't escape this holiday. I'll just have to go to school tomorrow and face it." And then she went upstairs to mentally prepare.

But the preparing was unnecessary. For Rachel found no note on or in her locker. No one hand delivered anything. But she kept an eye out, wary.

Glee practice went by, but she was still distracted, missing at least three steps. Seeing her falter once again, Mr. Schuester halted rehearsal, calling a break. "Rachel, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Tiredly, she approached her instructor. "I'm sorry, Mr. Schue. I have a lot on my mind this week."

He nodded in understanding. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Shrugging one shoulder, defeated, she replied, "It won't do any good. I just want the week to be over."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. But, the day's almost over if that's any consolation," he smiled softly and she couldn't help but smile a small smile back at him.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue. That's probably the best news I've gotten all week."

"Well, then, with that renewed positivity, I have a new song I would like you to sing. It's a solo, which is right up your alley. I have a few others doing their own as well, letting everyone stand on their own for awhile."

Rachel nodded, in Star mode. She took the offered music into her hands, groaning at the title, "Valentine" by Martina McBride.

* * *

When she was in ninth grade, she asked to skip Valentine's Day. Her dads refused, insisting that she would then miss theater practice and promised her in return a quiet evening in without mention of the offending day.

Entering the school was easy, but going through the hallways and seeing couples handing notes and passing flowers and smiles and kisses made the day nearly impossible. For as long as she could remember, singing was almost evenly matched with finding a boyfriend. And only one prospect looked good; it was going to be a lonely way to the top.

As she moved into her last class, a tall boy with deep brown eyes bumped into her. Their eyes met and he smiled, excusing himself. Her heart fluttered, she placed a hand on her chest to feel its rapid beating. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

But then, at the end of the day, she saw the same boy leaning down and kissing a blonde girl with a cheerleading uniform.

And when she went home, she said nothing to her dads. Just sat between them and watched Barbra allow Omar Sharif to leave.

* * *

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rachel!" Artie and Tina exclaimed, both handing her small cards.

"Sorry, they are really cheesy guys, but I could not resist!" Mercedes gushed, passing out her own. Then, one by one, everyone else in Glee seemed to be passing out their own cards. Rachel stood, shocked.

No one looked at her directly, but she felt obliged to speak. "I'm sorry I didn't do the same. I was unaware that we were passing out Valentine's Day cards to one another."

"It's no problem girl," Mercedes explained. "It's the thought that counts." Rachel smiled softly, feeling that same glimmer of hope. She hoped that it wouldn't disappear.

Each card was sillier than the last, but it was great having a big laugh with her friends in the choir room. Mr. Schue brought in cupcakes with pink frosting and let them playfully sing, joining in on cheesy romantic tunes. Rachel couldn't remember the last time she felt that Valentine's Day was fun.

After practice was over, Rachel went to her locker to retrieve her things. Feeling a shadow follow her, she was surprised to see Finn behind her, his hands clasped behind his back. "Hello Finn. That was a fun practice," she laughed.

"Yeah, it was, huh?"

"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling out her bookbag. Finn looked nervous, shuffling his shoes.

"Do you remember in ninth grade, that time I bumped into you?" Shocked and without words, Rachel nodded. "You were wearing this green shirt thing that had flowers on it, and a jean skirt. And I remember it was really cold that day, so you had goosebumps. And your face… you looked really upset. But when I bumped into you, you weren't mad or anything. You just sorta smiled. And that's when I knew…"

Rachel watched him numbly. Finn was watching her carefully, sensing any new emotions. "Knew what?"

Breaking into his beautiful lop-sided grin, he pulled out what he had been hiding behind his back, handing her a single lily flower. "I knew that I needed to make you smile like that."

She bit back a grin, hiding her face behind her hair as she bent down to smell the flower. Then, thinking, she remembered the flower arrangement of lilies back on her kitchen table. "It was you," she said, surprised.

Finn nodded happily. "Yeah. Did you like the flowers? I knew you didn't like the notes I was leaving, so I thought this would be a bit more traditional. My mom said girls love flowers."

"I love them, I do," she insisted.

"Good, I'm glad," he answered, smiling.

"I liked the notes too," she replied, stepping closer. Finn frowned.

"But you threw one away."

Rachel shook her head. "I've just had a bad relationship with this day. It just freaked me out."

He shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's not your fault. You made me believe in it again." Reaching up with a hand on his shoulder, he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Finn. It's been lovely."

"Could I escort you home?" he offered his arm to her goofily, and she laughed, feeling that layer around her heart melt away with his laugh.

"Why yes, you may."

When Rachel is twenty-five or thirty-three or sixty-seven, she'll sit beside someone who isn't her father and watch a happy movie with Barbra who gets the guy in the end.

Because she did too.


End file.
